


Sing a New Tune

by Merfilly



Category: Dragonriders of Pern - McCaffrey
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-14
Updated: 2010-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-10 03:08:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/94797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Petiron reflects</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sing a New Tune

Petiron felt every single year he'd lived as he settled into the posting at Half-Circle Sea Hold. The damp chill would always give way to the heat of the day, but those mornings could be painful at times. Every so often, he thought about sucking up his pride and asking the MasterHarper for a new posting, but invariably, the mere thought of doing so turned him back to stubborn resolution.

He had chosen Half-Circle to get away from the painful memories of the Hall, for one. His life, spent with Merelan and music, haunted him there. He had also seized on the promotion of his son to be a valid excuse to run away from his failures. Granted, when he chose the path he laid course for, it had not been so clear cut in his mind. He was bitterly at a loss for not having his wife, and thought he was being noble by getting out of Robinton's way.

Unfortunately, the first spring, once the fishing vessels were putting to sea more regularly, gave lie to his altruism. Robinton would not have suffered for his presence at the Hall; he never had. As Petiron examined himself, he came to see the truth of his actions for what they were. He could not bring himself to admit that the only thing he had ever been to his own flesh and blood, his only son, was a sharpening stone, and not in the manner of directed education. In Robinton's promotion, Petiron could measure his full failure as a Harper, one more of the hide-bound idiots who thought that music was all there was to Harpering.

Where was the vision that the Harper Hall had been crafted to preserve? How had he let himself fall so narrowly into notes and clefs and practices? There was no excuse for it, yet he had nearly, if Merelan had not intervened, choked the vision that Pern would need for Turns to come yet. Thread had come to the lands, and made fools of the non-believers, yet Robinton still rose to the challenges presented by its existence as eagerly and boldly as he had in quietly preparing for its return.

Petiron had shaped none of that, except perhaps by making Robinton grow more stubborn in response to Petiron's own foolishness. That unwitting sharpening stone, the old harper called himself again in his head. He could falter to ignominy and anonymity here in Half Circle. Already, Domick's works were circulating with fanfare and applause, duly deserved, for their complexity and intricacy.

Better, it was, for Petiron to fade fully from the stage, failure as father and harper both. Even Merelan had seen his flaws and put them in his face, yet, it had not been enough. Never enough, he knew, to see how wrong you were in the end of a life's span.

"Master Petiron?"

The soft lyrical voice pulled him from his bitter reverie, and his old eyes turned to the door to see young Menolly there. She was a sturdy girl, gifted not only in voice as fair Merelan had been, but also in the full Harper Craft. Lyrics, composition, instrument making all seemed to come to her easily, and her scribing was without fault.

Petiron looked to her with hope dawning in his soul. She would wilt here in Yanus's care, shrivel under Mavi's eye, yet Petiron could show her a way forward. He may have failed in his dedication to being all a Harper should be, but in Menolly, who grasped the pulse of the hold and made little tunes to preserve it, Petiron could give back to Pern something of what he had failed in.

Menolly, with her skill, could help Robinton spread his vision. All Petiron had to do was groom her, nurture her, and find a way to turn the Hall on its ear by recommending her as a full Apprentice, not merely a Singer.

That future gave him more comfort than any bitter reflections could ever bring.

"Come in, Menolly, and look at this music with me," he invited, aches forgotten in the scope of his plans for her.


End file.
